


Homecoming

by Seascribe



Category: due South
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M, Porn, Sex on a table, post-cotw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a really long two weeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catladyinwaiting](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Catladyinwaiting).



> Comment fic written for Catladyinwaiting's birthday, for the prompt requesting fluffy F/K smut, in which Diefenbaker has Opinions.

The first time Fraser goes on patrol, Ray spends every morning of the entire two weeks waking up alone in their bed and trying not to freak out. He's gotten used to having Fraser wrapped around him, waking up with his face jammed into Fraser's neck, warm from head to toe, even though it's negative god-knows-what outside, because Fraser is a freaking Mountie-shaped furnace. 

Ray never really got back into the groove of sleeping alone after Stella, and apparently his body was so thrilled to have a partner to share with again that it's totally unprepared to deal with even a temporary absence. Which is really fucking pathetic.

So Ray spends the entire two weeks missing Fraser, and worrying about Fraser--all kinds of bad things could happen to a Mountie out on the tundra with only a deaf wolf to watch his back--and wondering whether Fraser's missing him half this much. It's a really long two weeks.

Ray goes out to the airfield on the day Fraser's supposed to get back, even though it's his day off, because otherwise he's just going to mope around the cabin listening for the dogs, and Ray refuses point blank to be that pathetic. So he fools around with the engine on the Skyhawk, trying to figure out what that weird dinging noise is, and eats lunch with the crew, and he goes for two whole hours without thinking about Fraser once.

Ray heads home at the end of the afternoon, thinking maybe he'll make dinner for Fraser, and try to give him a chance to sit down and eat, and not jump him as soon as he walks in the door. But when he pulls up outside the cabin, there are fresh sled tracks in the snow out by the barn and lights on in the windows.

Fraser's in the kitchen, standing over a pot of leftover soup reheating on the stove. He's barefoot and still damp from the shower. Ray totally forgets his plan to be suave and self-restrained.

"Ray!" Fraser says happily, and then he's not saying anything because Ray's got him backed up against the table with Ray's tongue in his mouth and Ray's hands down his pants. 

Over in the corner, Dief makes a judgemental noise. 

"We _have_ a room, Dief," Fraser pants, turning his head so that Dief can see him. "Nobody's forcing you to stay in it." 

"Scram, furface," Ray growls, and leans over to fumble in the cabinet for something to use as lube. The first thing he grabs is the fancy bottle of imported olive oil that'd been a--really kind of lame--cabinwarming gift from Vecchio and Stella, but Fraser makes a disapproving face, so Ray stretches a little further and comes up with a half empty bottle of corn oil. Ray hates the way it smells, but fuck it, he's got more important concerns right now, like the way Fraser's kicking off his jeans and turning over to brace himself against the table.

"Missed you," Ray says as Fraser shivers around the press of Ray's fingers. 

"And I you, Ray," Fraser pants. "Oh, please, just--" That's all the encouragement Ray needs, and Fraser breaks off into a strangled gasp as Ray slides home. 

Ray tries to make it last, he really does, but it's been two goddamn weeks, and Fraser's rocking back against him, begging for it _harder, Ray, please,_ and fuck it, Ray is _gone_. He gets a hand around Fraser, jerking him off til he shudders and collapses, trapping Ray's hand between his belly and the table. Ray flops down on top of him with a sigh. 

"Glad you're home, Ben," he mumbles, rubbing his cheek against Fraser's shoulder.

"So am I," Fraser says. "Although if this is the kind of welcome I can expect, I might have to request patrol duty more frequently."

Ray makes a mental note to buy Diefenbaker an entire case of donuts.


End file.
